Page 47 of Knocked Up by the Bratva

His lips move against mine with a controlled urgency, the kind that lets me know he’s in no rush, that he has all the time in the world to make me feel every inch of his dominance. It’s intoxicating, the way his body presses into mine, his hands rough and sure as they roam over my skin, taking what he wants, but in a way that makes my head spin. I try to push away thethoughts, the fear of what I’m doing, but it’s impossible when every touch from him pulls me deeper into the heat between us.

His fingers dig into my hips, and I know there will be bruises tomorrow. Timur likes to leave his mark, likes to remind me that I’m his, but tonight there’s something softer about the way he handles me. He pulls me closer, a hand sliding up my back, tangling in my hair as he tilts my head back, exposing my neck to his mouth. I gasp as his lips trail over my skin, teeth grazing my pulse point, but there’s no bite, no sharp pain. Just the slow, deliberate claiming of his lips on my throat.

I shiver, the heat building between my thighs as he shifts, positioning himself over me. He watches me closely, his eyes dark and full of something I can’t quite place. “Do you feel that?” he whispers against my skin, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “That’s how you’re supposed to feel when you’re with me.”

His cock digs into the inside of my thighs. Hard. He shifts, and I bite back a moan as he brushes my folds.

I nod, not trusting my voice, not trusting myself to speak. Every part of me is on fire, my nerves alight under his hands. He lifts my wrists above my head, pinning them down with one strong hand. His touch is rough, leaving marks where his fingers press into my skin, but instead of fear, all I can feel is desire. It pulses through me, undeniable, and I hate that he has this control over me. That he can make me want him like this, even after everything.

“You like it, don’t you?” His voice is a low rumble, thick with satisfaction. “You like how I take what’s mine.”

His words send a surge of heat through me, and I bite my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response. He always knows. He grins, his teeth grazing my collarbone, and I arch into him, craving more, hating how much I need it.

“Tell me, Jennifer.” His tone is commanding, sharp. “Tell me you want this.”

I swallow hard, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. “I want it,” I whisper, barely audible, but it’s enough for him.

He moves his hand lower, his grip firm but not painful, as if he’s reminding me of his control while still giving me something softer. His lips brush mine again, but this kiss is gentler, almost sweet, and I find myself melting under it, letting him in deeper than I should. His hand cups my breast, his thumb circling the sensitive peak until I moan into his mouth, arching into him, the tension between us growing unbearable.

“I knew you’d like this,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second.”

His words hang in the air, thick with promise, and I’m not sure if I’m trembling from fear or anticipation. Maybe it’s both. His fingers slide lower, teasing, and I can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes me when he touches me, the heat of his hand igniting something deep inside me. My body betrays me, hips lifting to meet his hand, and I hate that I’m so eager for him, so desperate for his touch.

“Good girl,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

When he enters me, it takes every ounce of self-control not to call out his name. He fills me effortlessly, stretching me so wide that I can hardlythink.He sets an agonizing pace, pounding into me as I gasp and arch into his touch.

The pressure builds, and I’m on the edge, arousal coiling tight in my stomach. He pulls back just as I’m about to fall over the edge, his hand leaving my body, and I whimper in frustration, glaring up at him.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice teasing but firm. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

The intensity in his eyes makes my heart race, and I nod, biting my lip to stifle another moan. He leans down, his mouth brushing mine as he whispers, “You do whatIsay, when I say it. That includes your pleasure. Understood?”

I nod again, feeling my pulse thrum beneath my skin, the heat between us unbearable. His hand trails down my body again, slower this time, teasing, and I arch into him, unable to help myself.

His grip tightens on my wrists, just enough to remind me that I’m his, and I let out a soft, breathless moan as he moves against me, his body pressed tightly to mine. The roughness in his touch is still there, but it’s laced with something more tonight, something that makes my skin tingle with anticipation.

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, and my heart races.

His lips crash down on mine, hard and possessive, the kiss stealing my breath. There’s no softness now, no hesitation. It’s raw and primal, a reminder that I belong to him in every way that matters. His grip tightens as his hands roam over me, pulling me closer until I’m completely at his mercy, completely his.

He grips my thighs, spreading me wide beneath him, and I gasp at the sudden roughness, my fingers clutching at the sheets as my body responds to him. He leans down, his mouth hovering just above mine, his breath mingling with mine as he growls, “You’ll never leave me again, Jennifer. I won’t allow it.”

I gasp, unable to speak, the heat between us consuming every thought. His hands roam my body with a possessiveness that sends a thrill through me. Even now, even after everything,I want him. I hate that I do, but I can’t deny the way my body burns for him, the way he makes me feel.

“You belong to me,” he says, his voice deep and commanding, and I feel the truth of it in my bones.

His hands tighten on my hips, snapping me flush against him as my whole body quivers, and I can feel the bruising grip of his fingers, the way he stakes his claim on my skin. He’s rough, but not in a way that hurts, in a way that leaves me craving more. His lips follow his hands, leaving a trail of heat as they move lower, his kisses turning rougher, more demanding.

Somehow he drives me faster, until my thighs ache and my pussy feels raw, but I still need more. I moan, my body arching into his, giving him everything he wants, everything he demands. There’s no space between us now, no room for hesitation or second thoughts.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice full of satisfaction. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

I swallow, my heart pounding in my chest, unsure of how to respond. There’s a softness in his voice that I’ve never heard before, and it makes something inside me flutter even as my body aches.

We come in tandem, my whole body singing his praise as my orgasm takes over; I strangle a gasp as he pumps his seed into me, my vision going white.

Silence settles over us in the aftermath. He withdraws his cock, and I whine in complaint at the emptiness.

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